


Solstice

by cowgirldressage1



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Space Husbands, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:57:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5511011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirldressage1/pseuds/cowgirldressage1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk is missing the beloved celebration Solstice on his ship because he is on a mission that is going badly.  Fortunately, Spock has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solstice

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to this song first, if you are inclined. Nothing says Solstice like Jethro Tull.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BbBCCqPtEV8
> 
> As always, Star Trek belongs to our corporate overlords and I make no profit therefrom.

Solstice was supposed to be snow and icicles, silver tipped trees and a bite in the air. There should be the faint sound of carols coming from shops and streets festively decorated with twinkling lights and people bustling about wishing all a happy holiday while juggling packages and adorably dressed small children. The smells of fresh cookies, hot soup, and pine trees would scent the clear air. It was a very human, earth centric vision but still valid after all these centuries.

In reality, it was cold drizzling rain, spiky bushes that had never been green and the pervasive odor of mold. There were harsh voices, alien and strange, raised in anger or perhaps that was the natural cadence of conversation on this world. The dismal weather kept everyone off the sidewalks and in tight dank bars that lined the streets redolent of stale beer and roasting vegetables, unpalatable to a human tongue.

Jim Kirk leaned on his elbows and stared out of the ARlos’ steamy window, pulling morosely on his itchy civilian sweater. With a sigh, he turned toward the bar and ordered another tasteless, watery beer. After some time, the barman dropped a tankard on the table, beer sloshing over Jim’s pants leg. He tried to ignore the sour smell coming from the server who waited with his hand out for Jim’s credit chip. Transaction completed, Jim stared out the grimy window again, wishing this mission were over.

Two weeks. Two weeks on this god-forsaken world waiting to make contact with an alien scientist who might have a weaponized chemical which possibly could be of interest to the Klingons. Jim finally made contact last night in a dark shadowed alley and concluded with the judicious use of a tricorder that whatever the alien had was a fraud. Now, it was simply a matter of extricating Jim. Enterprise had to be in orbit now; it was only a matter of a few hours.

Jim tried to shake off the shadow of depression, blaming it on the weather, this dismal planet, the failed mission. He wanted nothing more than a warm shower, clean clothes and the pure filtered air of his silver ship. He missed his routine, his uniform, his crew. Most of all, he missed his lover. Jim had felt the hovering edge of Spock’s mind, filled with unVulcan like impatience and worry for the last two weeks. It would be a relief to bask in his warmth and concern when he returned.

To add insult to injury, he’d completely missed the holiday season. Winter Solstice had passed three days ago. All of the festivities were over, the decorations returned to storage and the replicators programmed for normal fare once again. The holiday was cherished in the fleet as it incorporated Hanukkah and Christmas, Kwanza and Sioppan, Verist and K’morrah. Even though the change of seasons and the length of days no longer had importance on a starship, the traditions continued to be honored.

As Captain, Jim enjoyed presiding over the holidays but often let his own traditions slide. After all, the most important part of the holiday was joy and nostalgia; so many men and women separated from their families, creating their own among their crewmates. He didn’t decorate a tree, hadn’t thought about Santa Claus, or eaten a fruitcake in years. Jim did take time out to cherish his friends, his crew, and the family he’d created for himself. 

There had been other holidays spent off the ship. He’d gone to Uhura’s home one year, a farm house just off Lake Victoria in the eastern part of Kenya and been awed by the history and wildlife there. She and her sisters welcomed him like a long lost brother. Several evenings he sat on the daka porch, watching the giraffes tamely meander over the long lawns sloping down to the lake and listening to the splash of fish on dark water. He reached for Spock’s hand, thinking he reminded him of those tall, awkward, ever curious creatures.

Another year he’d gone to Scotland, joining Scotty and a raucous band of relatives in Glasgow. There was drinking, singing, and dancing, so much so that he actually missed Solstice entirely, waking two days later with a crashing headache and a cool compress pressed to his forehead by a gentle, long fingered hand.

One of his favorite holidays was spent with Leonard McCoy and his family in Georgia. Joanna, her husband and children, congregated at the McCoy home, an aging wood house, near the old park. The house was decorated very traditionally, Christmas tree, holly, and garlands. The smell of roast beef, turkey, a Virginia ham, eggnog, and pies of every description, permeated the air. Someone placed mistletoe artfully over the doorways. Much to Jim’s surprise, Spock made use of each and every opportunity to kiss him, with a Vulcan swipe of his fingertips if others were present or in the human style if he thought he might not have witnesses.

Only one thing bound these memories together. Spock had been beside him throughout. Jim missed him with every fiber of his being and his presence might have made this mission, if not pleasant, at least bearable.

Jim shook himself out of his daydream and tugged on his grimy sweater again, it was time to return to his room in the residential district. Enterprise would pick him up there. Jim looked forward to getting off this hell-hole planet and back home. He got up to leave the bar and pushed his chair across the floor with a metallic shriek. He turned abruptly only to find his way blocked by a tall alien. Jim immediately tensed, rising onto the balls of his feet, ready to fight or run, which ever was the best choice. 

A deep voice stopped him, murmuring,  
“Captain.”

Jim didn’t try to hide his astonishment and joy. Spock realized he was recognized and thought it safe to put a large hand on Jim’s shoulder and give it a squeeze.

Jim grabbed his arms and fought the desire to pull him into an embrace. This was Spock after all. He satisfied himself with taking in every inch of his First Officer, dressed in a long dark cloak that covered anything that might identify him as a Star Fleet officer. Jim studied his beloved face, noting lines of worry framing Spock’s mouth and cutting his forehead. It was hours before his pick up. He couldn’t imagine why Spock was here. He glanced behind him and saw Spock was not alone. There were at least three security officers and a grinning Doctor McCoy similarly attired standing casually but warily around them. 

Jim frowned, “Mr. Spock, you’re early. Not that I’m ungrateful but is there a problem?”

“Not at all, Captain. The opportunity arose to extricate you early so I took advantage of it.”

McCoy leaned in, “WE took advantage of it. Now, unless you want to stay, Jim . . . We could come back in a couple of days.”

Jim threw back his head and laughed. “Oh no, let’s get out of here!”

Spock and the security team unobtrusively led the way out and Jim gave one more glance back at the dingy bar and followed them out with a grateful sigh.

\--

Jim’s first stop amidst Spock’s non-stop report on the ship’s status was his cabin. He left Spock in the office area and stepped into the head. Spock was still talking but one glance in the mirror at his longish darkened hair and rough face sent him quickly to the shower. Turning it to water, he leaned against the wall closed his eyes and let the hot water flow over him. A sudden temperature drop warned him that Spock had entered the stall and had mercifully stopped speaking. Jim didn’t open his eyes, but just leaned back into the warm body behind him. Spock turned the controls to wash and inch by inch, cleaned every part of Jim’s well loved body, pausing reverently at each dip and dimple, washing away weeks of filth and disappointment. Spock cherished and soothed with every touch of his hand. Jim slowly released all his cares and slipped into the relaxed lassitude only Spock could create.

Spock didn’t intend for his caresses to be arousing but couldn’t hide his rising tension. Jim felt him hardening behind him, almost apologetically. He shifted back encouragingly so that Spock was pressed against his ass. Spock’s abs tightened noticeably behind him and his sensitive hands came together to softly touch Jim’s sides and lower abdomen. Just the tips of his long fingers moved restlessly downward until he had Jim, now hard, fully in hand.

Spock pulled Jim’s hands up so they were locked behind his neck, making Jim vulnerable to every movement of Spock’s hands. The dance began, Spock thrusting smoothly in the shallow channel of Jim’s buttocks while touching Jim most intimately. His nose buried in Jim’s neck, Spock breathed in the clean musky scent of his lover’s arousal and trembled with the longing and lust coming through his fingertips. As his finger pads began a final and infuriating upward trip, Jim tensed in his arms and spilled over his palms. It took one short thrust for Spock to come also.

They stood in the hot shower, Spock’s arms wrapped around Jim’s waist and Jim covering them with his own hands. The lovers rocked, sated, filled with love until the water began to cool. With a chuckle, Jim led them out and into his cabin to dry and change into fresh uniforms. This interlude they both understood to be brief, the ship wouldn’t run by herself and they needed to report to the Bridge. If they were a little late and damp, no one was likely to comment even if they did suspect the reason.

\--

Reports were filed, conferences with Star Fleet completed, Jim was done with his duties until his next shift. Despite his reunion with Spock, he felt tense and restless. The Bridge crew, perhaps picking up his mood, was fairly quiet after initially greeting him with enthusiasm. Even Spock left him alone, only suggesting they meet in the Mess at 1700 h. Jim was tired and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, ideally with his favorite Vulcan but was too much of a professional to suggest it. He had to at least make an appearance for the crew’s sake, he knew. Jim shook off the feeling of vague disappointment as he entered the Mess.

. . . Which was adorned from floor to ceiling in a myriad of festive decorations. A giant pine tree stood proudly in the center, complete with presents strewn underneath, an Andorian wreath bedecked with traditional white feathers hung on the wall, candles lit every surface and the lights had been dimmed to enjoy their glow. Music played softly, varying from tradition to tradition on random play. The crew seemed to be everywhere wearing everything from formal wear to costumes celebrating the season. And the smells! Jim caught the scent of roasting meat, peppermint, pine, and chocolate all coming from Chef Ramsey’s kitchen. There would be no unreplicated food tonight!

Dumbfounded, Jim walked the Mess, greeting his crew and wishing them a happy holiday. It became apparent immediately that Jim hadn’t missed Solstice, his crew, his family, had waited to celebrate it until he was home. He came upon McCoy standing by the bar with eggnog in hand, his Santa hat slightly askew.

“Bones, this is incredible. I don’t know how you pulled it off.”

“Much as I’d like to take the credit, it wasn’t me. Damn hobgoblin came up with postponing the party. Thought he was being Scrooge at first, then we all realized what he was planning.”

Speechless, Jim excused himself to stand next to his First Officer. Jim nudged him gently with an elbow. Spock tilted his head toward Jim and his eyes twinkled.

“I don’t suppose you know anything about putting off the celebration until I came back, do you Mr. Spock?”

Spock was all wide-eyed innocence for a moment and then looked away guiltily. 

Jim chuckled evilly. “There is one tradition you might have forgotten.”

Looking affronted, Spock responded with some heat. “I do not think so.”

“A ha! This was your clever idea! Well, Mr. Spock, look above you. Remember that Christmas at McCoy’s house? I believe I have you trapped.”

Spock looked up and saw a branch of mistletoe hanging above him. He shot a mischievous glance at Jim. “Indeed, yes I am.”

Jim grabbed him in a manly hug and smacking kiss on the cheek that sent the crew into howls of laughter and applause. Jim stepped back and Spock turned an attractive apple green. The crew cheered even louder when Spock leaned in and kissed Jim very properly. 

McCoy nudged Uhura standing next to him. “Well, I guess the cat is out of the bag.”

She threw him a bemused look as she watched her Captain and his First Officer tenderly step apart. “Oh honey, that ship sailed sometime ago.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a day late and maybe a dollar short. Please leave a review if you are so inclined.


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